never!'
'Not even at the end?' Again she flushed at the realization that he, too, had guessed the extent to which Owen's illness had incapacitated him.
'No, I could never have handled the guilt.'
'And what about now?' he asked.
'Now?' Her eyes flew to his dimly lit profile, the crisp knot of his tie, the crisper outline of his lips, chin, and nose. 'Are you one of those widows who would feel disloyal to her husband's memory if she had sex with another man?'
The warning rockets went off in Rachel's body. How many times had she asked herself the same question and come up with no answer? Twenty years with the same man had left her feeling shaky and doubtful about considering another. Yet she knew that when Tommy Lee made his move, she would not turn him away. And there was no doubt he was about to make it. She held her breath, waiting for him to turn off the engine and draw her into his arms, but instead he strung an arm along the back of the seat, half turning to her to say, 'Rachel, I can't thank you enough for tonight.'
Disappointment made her stomach go hollow as she realized he'd been sitting there waiting for his cue, which she had not given. Maybe it was best this way. Her common sense knew a thousand reasons why she should hurry to the house and let him drive away, but her heart knew as many more for wanting him
to stay. His company was pleasurable… and 287 he'd changed. So much. But would the changes last? At that moment it ceased to matter, and she groped for a means to keep him with her a while longer.
'But I should be thanking you.'
'No… no,' he said quietly. But still he sat politely on his side of the seat while her heart hammered crazily.
'Tommy Lee, I…' Did he really intend to say good night without even kissing her?
'You what?'
She didn't know what she was going to say next until the words fell from her mouth. 'Why didn't you tell me the earrings were for Beth?'
'You wanted to believe the worst about me.'
'I did?'
'Of course. That would have made it much easier for you to deny what you were feeling.'
'And what am I feeling?'
'You tell me.'
But she really didn't know. There was this powerful attraction, but at the same time she feared his wildness, his reputation, the very real possibility of his backsliding.
So she asked, 'Did you get the new
glasses because you knew I didn't like the old ones?'
His hand rested very near her shoulder. 'Absolutely,' he answered in a voice as soft as the fall of a dogwood petal.
Her eyes dropped to his lapel. 'And your suit is new, isn't it?'
He, too, glanced down at his chest. 'I'm afraid it is. I had to buy it to replace a perfectly good one I ruined in your pool.' They laughed quietly, then fell still again, feeling the tension grow.
'And you've been…' She was suddenly afraid to broach the delicate issue.
'I've been what?'
'You've been dieting.'
'High time, wouldn't you say?'
She had saved the most delicate issue for last. 'And how long has it been since you stopped drinking?'
His hand left the back of the seat and fished for a cigarette. 'Six weeks,' he answered, leaning forward to push in the dash lighter, leaving his arm extended while waiting for it.
She added it all up, as she'd been adding it
up all evening, and her heart melted. 289 She laid her hand on his crisp jacket sleeve. 'Oh, Tommy Lee, that's wonderful.'
His eyes flashed to the spot where she touched him, then quickly away. 'You made me see I was on a fast train to nowhere. I decided it was time to change tracks.'
The lighter popped out, and she dropped her hand from his arm while the tip of the cigarette took fire. The idling engine was making her more nervous by the second, and she sensed his impatience to get away if the evening was going to end here with a simple good night.
Suddenly his face took on a hard expression as he studied the glowing coal of his cigarette and asked, 'Rachel, why did you come tonight?'
She was so surprised at his change of mood that she didn't know what to answer. She only stared at him, big-eyed.
'You wanted to check me out, find out if I really meant it when I said I could change. But what does it mean to you that I have?'
'Mean…' I-I'm not sure what you-was
'Let me put it this way, then. Just because I've changed, I can't expect that I'll stand a chance with you. That's how it is, right, Rachel?'
'No! No, that's not it!' But it was. In spite of the sexual awareness she felt, she was afraid of people finding out she was spending time with him, afraid of the way he played romantic leapfrog, afraid that they were attracted to each other more by the tug of yesteryear than of today.
'Oh, isn't it? You've already told me you're not a woman who has affairs, and it would be stretching the imagination to believe you wanted anything permanent. So if I kiss you, if I start something, where does that leave me except hurt?'
He studied her intently now, waiting for some response. She felt like a hypocrite, wanting him sexually, yet unable to deny that she wouldn't want the town to find out. He turned to face her, crooking a knee on the seat and draping an elbow between the headrests. She was reminded of his similar pose on the deck railing earlier and pictured his trousers drawn tight, his jacket fallen open. With the hand that held the cigarette, he lifted a strand of her hair and let it fall. 'It's all right, Rachel. You
don't have to say it.' 291
She closed her eyes and let the sensation of his touch thread down through her limbs and bring goose pimples as the hair dropped from his fingertips time and again. A thought filtered through-something about too much water over the dam-but it felt so good to be touched again, even in so casual a fashion. From above her head the smoke curled, filling her nostrils, while he played with her hair and made her shiver. At last she opened her eyes and found him watching her carefully.
'But still I can't resist you,' he said throatily. 'You know that.'
All was still. Their eyes clung and questioned while intensity spun between them. He's right, she thought sadly, you could hurt him so badly.
'We have so much working against us,' she said, in a soft, pained voice.
'Do we?'
She was hazily aware of his arm rising over her head, and of the way he reached toward the ashtray to tamp out the cigarette while studying her over his shoulder. Then he turned to her again, and one strong hand closed about the back of her neck.
'Come here, Rachel,' came his thick-throated
appeal.
He drew her halfway across the seat, meeting her there with the kiss she'd been afraid would happen, afraid wouldn't. His lips were open, soft, and suckling, covering hers in a first exploratory hello-again that made her heart carom. The tip of his tongue drew persuasive lines along the seam of her lips, and she could no more have kept them closed against him than she could have stilled the wild thrum of her heart. Their tongues met-a sleek, hesitant greeting filled with uncertainty.
When they drew apart, their eyes shone like flinders of glass as they studied each other in the faint greenish-white light. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Now tell me,' he ordered softly. 'What do we have working against us?'
